


Second Summer

by s2039 (ka_tsu_ra)



Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Bottom Harlock, I like to imagine Miime offered to come along, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, yes Harlock went out and bought a dildo, younger man/older man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ka_tsu_ra/pseuds/s2039
Summary: It's inconvenient to be over a century past puberty and consumed with horniness.(As you can see, this is a multiple chapter dirty story so the tag cloud will only grow.)





	Second Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again, the guy who writes Harlock getting fucked in the ass. This one borrows my friend Gabi's very good headcanon that being a dark matter space vampire dulled Harlock's 'inconvenient' human drives and senses, and that living as a mortal both necessitates a spare captain (hi, Yama) and lets me write him being bemused/annoyed at having to deal with a sex drive again.
> 
> As always, I live and die on comments and try to reply to everybody who has fun reading my anime perv words.

Harlock was ready, or close to it. Maybe he was more fed up than prepared, but the reinvigorated demands his mortal body pushed on him made it increasingly difficult to tell the difference. Dispelling the dark matter from his body had dumped him – happily, most times – back into an existence that was intimidating in its familiarity. It reintroduced him to hunger, to pain, to sleepiness, and he found himself embracing these inconveniences.

The feeling that had him crumpled on the floor of his shower, however, was less welcome and less simple. He couldn't blame it on the return of bleeding human life to his body alone. He'd tried, but the primary cause was undeniable. It might have claimed him within days without the insulating, deadening influence of the dark matter.

Yama. Just calling his face to mind made Harlock's body slump harder against the shower wall and his hips rock against his hand. He had his knees spaced far apart, his chest leaning into the wall for extra support while he fingered himself. Pain didn't bother him much, even after a hundred years, and already had his ring and middle fingers slipped entirely into his ass. The steam rising around him made it easier to relax, but he didn't need that so much as he needed the most conventional draw of masturbating in the shower: Assured privacy.

Not that Harlock didn't trust his friend not to withdraw his computerized awareness from his quarters long enough for him to relieve his urges. Since his return to humanity months earlier, he had awoken sweating and aroused a handful of times and taken care of himself without much thought at all. It was, he reasoned, only his body waking up to itself again. Why would he feel the need to hide that from his friend?

But this _wanting_ that had taken root in him was different. It was more than perfunctory biology. It felt deeply personal, private, and even a little scandalous.

Harlock drew a long breath and spread his fingers. He savored the pinch that signaled the limits of his comfort and held the position for a few moments.

Getting hard because his body pumped blood again was different from being consumed desire for someone within reach.

He pressed his fingers together again and started to work them in and out of his ass, letting the pads part like water around a boulder against the edges of the smooth, firm spot inside him that made his hips jerk and his cock leak. The hiss and drum of water against the floor and walls disguised his sighs.

It had all started so simply that Harlock hadn't realized what was happening to him. That he and Yama had become suddenly and deeply close was obvious to anyone on the ship, but Harlock alone knew the small ways in which he appreciated Yama on a sensual level. When his body began to feel fully again, it decided it enjoyed feeling Yama most of all. The unique smell of his skin in close proximity. Light fingertips tending split skin. Hands harder than the pink newness of all his scars suggested gripping and shoving Harlock when saber practice turned to rough housing.

Harlock moaned.

At first, he'd been content to return to those disconnected flashes of stimulus when his body woke him with its renewed needs. Yama's mouth, Yama's soft hair, Yama's compact limbs and smooth back decorated with those new pink scars, Yama's fingers that gloves kept smooth and battle made strong. In very little time, the fantasy refined itself. It diversified and deepened. Instead of calling up a memory like the weight and hard-softness of Yama's body slumped on him when fatigue took hold after a long battle, his brain started forcing new and composited images on him.

Yama's hands pulling Harlock's hips to the edge of his bed, the sheets bunching under his naked ass. The short nails Harlock had watched Yama clean after playing in the window box he kept in his quarters digging softly into Harlock's skin as he picked up his knees and spread his legs far apart. Yama lining his cock up with his hole and bucking into him hard.

Yama fucking him. Yama bearing down on him, young and impulsive, breath coming as hard as the strikes of his hips, so caught up in the moment that he doesn't notice he's being rough. Loving the roughness, the raw sensation of being pleasured very thoroughly. Cumming, hard. Yama cumming inside him.

Harlock's legs were shaking. He shifted a few inches along the wall so that he could hold onto one of the chrome hand grips if need be.

Ready, fed up, it made no difference.

Harlock slipped his fingers free and swished them clean in the water rushing to the drain. The lubricant he'd used was tenacious, it turned out, and it took a few sobering moments to feel sure he wouldn't drop anything he tried to take in hand for the next 24 hours.

Maybe, he reflected as he reached for the translucent rod he'd set aside to warm in the shower steam, this felt like an act worth concealing because he'd gone to the trouble of buying equipment for it. He leaned over to depress the head of the pump bottle of lubricant he'd bought at the same shop, watching with a mixture of impatience and visual fascination as the stuff globbed over the toy's fat head and ran down the length of the shaft to coat it. He kept his middle finger looped into the ring at the base, not so rapt that he forgot his paranoia about dropping it.

He'd been... conservative, in his selection. Even if he still had what Dr. Zero called a worrying tolerance for pain his body was a century out of practice. The toy was slim, smooth, and just short of his own hand's length from wrist to tallest fingertip. The rounded, bulbous head appealed to him. Out of practice as he was, Harlock remembered and yearned for the sensation of something hard going 'pop' into him, of the end pushing against his inner walls as it buried itself in him.

Sighing, he spaced his knees again and lowered his hips. His brain supplied the fantasy of driving his hips down on Yama's cock and he wrapped his empty hand around the hand grip to steady himself. He nudged his opening with the head of the toy, and his body responded with a reflexive flinch that made his sore cock bob. The pinched sensation from before bloomed between his legs as he pushed up to grind and press the head against himself.

When it slipped past the barrier, Harlock's back arched forward and his mouth opened for a gasp. The whole thing slid in easily after that, all the way to the ring around his finger. The head glided over his prostate and juiced a strand of clear fluid from his cock. His hips twitched forward on instinct and he gasped, feeling every inch of the shaft pressing his insides when he clenched and shifted.

He'd overestimated his sensation-starved body in exactly the wrong way.

His empty hand found its way from the grip on the wall to the head of his cock. He slid his fingertips over the red, tender flesh and sealed his lips against a moan that tried to rise out of his throat. Smearing his fingers around in his pre-cum made his core tighten up with the desire to rock forward and stroke out his orgasm, made his insides quake and tense up in a way that squeezed the toy inside him so hard he could feel it pulling and twisting the ring that held it in place.

He wanted Yama to fuck him was his body was still like this. He wanted Yama to fuck him while having anything this deep inside him was almost too much. Just the thought had him stroking his cock to the rough rhythm of his pulse. Shortly, though, he started to lilt and shift on the wet floor and had to reach for the hand grip again. With his other hand, he gradually drew the toy out until the head tugged on his inner rim, a long sigh escaping him. That sensation, even approximated, was so good after so long. It made him feel drunk, his inhibitions so drowned in the flood of sensation and emotion that he outright willed himself to imagine Yama stretched out underneath him, ready to pump up into him.

The push back up and in had Harlock leaning hard against the shower wall again, and in his mind some part of him was bent far forward to hold onto his headboard while Yama gripped his shaking hips and eased into him. Steam swirling around him made his breaths feel thick and shallow as he tried to concentrate on building a rhythm without hurting himself or wearing out his wrist. It wasn't easy to hold back. It felt good. The fading ache his impatience had earned him, the urgent pleasure throb between the bottom of his belly and the root of his cock, the driving pressure of the toy gliding over his clinging walls, everything just felt _good_.

Even allowing himself to imagine Yama, his whole being, not just stolen sensations, felt good. He'd been so afraid that it would break his heart to welcome even the fantasy of sex with another man after the loss of his friend, but this only made him happy. It multiplied his pleasure to bring up the image and approximate the sensation of Yama fucking up into him, gaze locked on him because he wants him and wants to watch him cum.

Harlock's knuckles creaked around the hand grip. He was fucking himself fast now, withdrawing the toy just enough to pull the head over his sweet spot and ram it back in again. His lips were pressed tightly together so that the shower only had his heavy breaths to cover up. Increasingly, his body resisted his efforts to push and pull the rod, and he felt the strikes on his prostate harder and harder. His rigid cock perked with the initial contractions of the interminable pleasure plateau reaching its end.

It was imagining Yama's cock swelling and stiffening further inside him, the frantic pace his thrusts would take on as he chased his orgasm, that finally got Harlock off. He let out a choked sound and arched forward when the first long stream of cum came jetting out of him. The tremors of his climaxing body stroked and stirred the shaft still rooted to the hilt in his ass, and he came harder and longer for imagining that he was milking Yama's orgasm out of him.

When he had control of his body again, Harlock let himself crumble onto the shower floor, panting. His thighs, his knees, and the wrist that had done most of the work were all sore already. He felt incredible otherwise. Still, by the time he'd washed up a second time his head had cleared enough to recognize that this was not a sustainable solution.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As a parting note: I titled this Second Summer because there's really. No relevant colloquial term for warm, vibrant weather that occurs in autumn after a killing frost that is not:  
> -Insensitive  
> -Terrible to hear or look at  
> so I've just. Been lazy, really, because I wanted my metaphor.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, tell me so. If you want more, tell me so. I respond very well to positive reinforcement.
> 
> If you didn't enjoy this and don't want more, how and why are you here? This is the end notes, dirtybird! Maybe you had more fun than you think!


End file.
